


I Miss Missing You

by rpete85



Category: Original Work
Genre: Alternate Timelines, F/M, Non-Linear Narrative, Original Character(s), POV Alternating
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-03-01
Updated: 2018-04-19
Packaged: 2019-03-25 16:14:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 10,998
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13838415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rpete85/pseuds/rpete85
Summary: In which Wyatt and Elena discover that the more things change, the more they stay the same.Or: a series of run-ins and encounters that show just how easily moving on can be undone.





	1. Yellow Umbrellas

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! This is my first work I've ever posted and I'm really excited about it. That said, I'm also really nervous and would appreciate any feedback! The title is inspired by a Fall Out Boy song that I like. I don't own the lyrics.

_Baby you were my picket fence_

_I miss missing you_

_Now and then_

CHAPTER ONE: Yellow Umbrellas

  
**Now:**  
_The poorly paved street makes for a bumpy bus ride. Elena has to restrain herself from leaning against the cool glass to watch the raindrops for fear of a head injury. There’s soft music playing from her headphones, but it’s not doing much for her mood. Something about the rain and the crowded bus and the chill in the air makes her sad. It’s nothing she can pinpoint, so maybe it’s all of it. Winter is fast approaching, bringing with it the stress of the holidays and the grim reality of cold and wet and dark. As the bus jolts to a stop, Elena stands and shakes her stupor off, leaving it in the now unoccupied seat. She’s too busy to be sad, she decides. As she steps out into the brisk air, she stops in her tracks. There, down the street, a familiar streak of curly auburn hair bobs above the crowd. Heart leaping in her throat, Elena abandons her destination to follow, just to see if-_  
_Before she takes another step, it’s gone. Elena shakes off the strangeness that surrounds her and tries to ignore the disappointment that’s building in her chest. The cold is getting into her head. After all this time, he’s not back. Why would he come back? Suddenly feeling the rain soaking into her hair and the cold biting at her face, Elena remembers that she has more to do than stand and marvel at the thought of him. As she hurries along, she muses about how much of him she’d blocked from her mind. Even his name has been locked away, tucked into a dark, unused corner in the back of her mind, hiding. The more she dwells on the thought of what is sealed away, the closer the name gets to resurfacing and the more the anxiety swells in her stomach. Shaking her mind clear of these thoughts, Elena forces herself to focus on the raindrops falling around her, harder than before. She pulls her yellow umbrella out of her messenger bag and opens it above her, protecting herself from the cold rain and wind._

 **Then:**  
            Elena stepped into the bookstore, shaking excess rain from her bright umbrella, admiring the way the water slid off the yellow fabric. It was really coming down outside, the rain coming in driving sheets at sideways angles to attack pedestrians on the sidewalk. Elena wiped her boots off on the well-worn rug and began to meander through the aisles. The scent of the aging books on dusty shelves combined with the warm air streaming from the vents on the ceiling combined to create a peaceful effect, allowing her to relax her shoulders and let out a long breath of air that she’d been holding for far too long. It was mostly quiet; the other shoppers browsed in neighboring aisles in contemplative silence and the bored-looking teenage attendant at the checkout desk had the look of a boy just clinging to consciousness. Running a finger over the books’ spines until she found an interesting title, Elena made her way down the aisle, occasionally checking the price on a book and taking it. She had nearly reached the end and was about to turn to browse the other side when a sudden voice was in her ear.  
           “You know, that’s the brightest umbrella I’ve ever seen.” Elena’s heart rose into her throat and spikes of adrenaline shivered down into her fingertips. Whirling around, she brought her collection of books up in front of her chest defensively, umbrella swinging under them. Leaning against the shelves stood a mop of curly auburn hair that looked like it took a turn in a washing machine, a mess of cowlicks and damp coils. Beneath it was a lanky freckled boy grinning at Elena. She huffed out a breath and lowered her books, willing the energy pulsing in her fingers to subside. The boy’s grin evolved quickly into a laugh, his curly hair bouncing with every slight shake of his head. After a moment, he calmed enough took look back at her, the laughter still filling his flecked green eyes. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you,” he said. Energy finally gone, Elena focused on the boy’s features for the first time and realized that this was the most attractive boy she’d ever talked to.  
           “I scare easily,” she blushed, trying to hide under the wisps of her hair that had fallen out of her messy bun. He nodded in agreement, studying her. She felt almost uncomfortable under his scrutiny, like a bug under a microscope.  
           “Well, I was only trying to tell you that on all the rainy days in all the places I’ve ever lived, I’ve never seen someone with an umbrella this colorful.” The boy pushed off the shelf and took the dangling yellow umbrella in a freckled hand to examine it further. There were still some straggling raindrops clinging to the fabric, falling down as he rotated it in his hand. The boy finished checking it out and looked back at Elena. “It’s an interesting choice. Why did you get this one instead of a more nondescript one like the rest of the human population?” Elena brought it closer to her to study it as well.  
           “Well, I’m not the only person in the world with a yellow umbrella. When I was in high school, my best friend and I got them together. We noticed that everyone around us always seemed to be in a sad mood whenever it was rainy and cold, like today. So we got matching yellow umbrellas to carry the feeling of a happy day with us through a dark rainy one.” The memories of high school and her best friend Sam made her feel a strange bittersweet nostalgia that she hadn’t felt in a long time. Staring at the yellow material brought her back to a stranger yet simpler time. Elena couldn’t decide if she would rather be there or here now.  
           “That’s a beautiful sentiment that I totally agree with,” The boy said in wonderment, dropping the umbrella and looking up at Elena. His eyes seemed to glow, the little flicks of green piercing into her. “I can only guess what other kinds of beautiful sentiments are inside your pretty head.” Elena felt the blood rising to her face quickly as she looked away, stammering bashfully. “I’m Wyatt,” he grinned again, sticking out a hand. It was all Elena could do to reciprocate calmly, giving the firmest handshake she could muster.  
           “I’m Elena.”

 **Now:**  
_Wyatt has never been a fan of the rain. Days like today, when the sun seems to never rise and the cold rain comes and goes in sheets and drizzles and mists are the days that Wyatt dreads. Normally, he would lock himself inside his apartment and watch movies all day, sipping a beer. The only thing driving him from such a lazy day is the looming holiday season and the stress of gift buying. So Wyatt takes a deep breath and lets himself out into the wet, chilling wind. The downpour of moments ago has slowed to an annoying mist. He pulls his headphones out and puts on his playlist titled “Good Vibes,” hoping to force some decent thoughts into his sad and tired mind. After a few songs, Wyatt begins to feel better and bob his head to the music pumping softly. As he waits at a crosswalk, all of the decent feeling that had been brewing falls away when across the street, Wyatt sees a flash of a bright yellow umbrella above the crowd of gray and black raincoats. He freezes for the smallest of seconds before regaining his senses and stepping forward, intent on catching it. But the umbrella has disappeared into crowd again. Not even the good vibes in his headphones can help the rock that’s sinking in Wyatt’s stomach now. He ducks his head down in a conscious effort to not strain to catch a glimpse of that yellow umbrella again. Pensive, he muses about how long it’s been since he thought about everything. How all of the memories have been locked in a room in his mind that he hasn’t visited since. The panic rises as Wyatt mentally draws closer to releasing all those experiences. He forces himself to aim his attention at a room on the far side of his mind, where he ponders what he needs to buy today and where. Thoughts of which toy Wyatt’s going to buy his little sister take over and push the panic back down as the wind picks up around him._

 **Then:**  
           The pitter-patter on the roof of the bookstore had become annoying, and Wyatt was getting bored. He’d been hiding out from the rain for a few hours, alternating between searching though the shelves, seeking out new titles and lounging in the worn leather seats in the back of the store, flipping through old and faded pages. The store was relatively empty, and the customers there were all quiet as they browsed the hundreds of titles crammed into every shelf. Wyatt heaved a sigh, closing the book in his hands and rolling off the chair with a quiet squeak. Nothing was really interesting him today; no book was capturing his attention in its pages and words. As he brushed himself off and stretched, the door blew open and someone stepped in. Now normally, Wyatt would pay no mind to the new face in the bookshop, but the girl’s bright yellow umbrella made him double take her. It was most certainly the brightest umbrella he’d ever seen, a stark contrast to the dozens of blue and black umbrellas walking the street. For a moment, he could only stare at the umbrella as the girl folded it and hung it from her fingertips. As the raindrops slid off the fabric, Wyatt felt his gaze move from the curious thing up to her face, where he was surprised to see one of the most beautiful girls he’d ever seen in real life. Her blonde hair was piled atop her head in a bun of some sort that looked effortlessly messy but also carefully styled. She had rosy cheeks and a smattering of freckles that seemed to shimmer as she moved in the bookstore’s low light, running a finger along the books’ spines. It took Wyatt a few minutes to recover and move from his dumbfounded stance by the leather chair. By then, the beautiful girl had made her way down the aisle and gathered a few titles in her arms. He shook his hair out, took a deep breath, and walked to the edge of the aisle, leaning against the shelf opposite her. When the girl reached him, Wyatt spoke, trying to sound calm and collected.  
           “You know, that’s the brightest umbrella I’ve ever seen,” he said, thanking his voice for not cracking. But the sound had clearly startled the girl, who whirled around with her stack of books thrust out defensively in her hands, yellow umbrella swinging wildly from her fingers. At the sight, Wyatt couldn’t help but laugh. This girl had just gone from attractive to adorable. After a second, the panicked look left her blue eyes and she lowered her books, taking a large breath. Wyatt collected himself as well and tried again. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to scare you.”  
           She shrugged slightly and looked at him from under her lashes. “I scare easily,” she said, and somehow her rosy cheeks got even redder. Wyatt could only nod as he stared at the beautiful girl in front of him, taking in what he didn’t see at first. She squirmed slightly, but his gaze was unrelenting. How could Wyatt not stare? Finally, he made a mental vow to continue his study further another time and spoke up again.  
           “Well, I was only trying to tell you that on all the rainy days in all the places I’ve ever lived, I’ve never seen someone with an umbrella this colorful,” he commented and pushed off the dusty shelf to behold the umbrella in question up close. As he picked it up, the dawdling droplets of water slipped away from his hand and down the yellow fabric, giving it an iridescence he couldn’t quite find words for. Looking back up at the girl, he said, “It’s an interesting choice. Why did you get this one instead of a more nondescript one like the rest of the human population?” Now, the girl moved closer to examine the umbrella too.  
           “Well, I’m not the only person in the world with a yellow umbrella. When I was in high school, my best friend and I got them together. We noticed that everyone around us always seemed to be in a sad mood whenever it was rainy and cold, like today. So we got matching yellow umbrellas to carry the feeling of a happy day with us through a dark rainy one.” Outside the store, the rain hit the pavement loudly and the wind whooshed past the window with a whistle, creating the perfect soundtrack for the beautiful girl’s story. Wyatt balked at how everything she did changed his perception of her; at a glance, she was beautiful. After he scared her, she was adorable. Now, she had expressed a viewpoint that Wyatt had always considered but could never convey, and she was fascinating. Somehow, this girl Wyatt didn’t even know the name of had captivated his attention completely, washing every other stimulus away. When Wyatt finished marveling, he realized it was his turn to speak again.  
           “That’s a beautiful sentiment that I totally agree with,” he said and kicked himself mentally for sounding so amazed, losing his hopefully calm and collected aura. The umbrella dropped from his hand as he moved closer still. “I can only guess what other kinds of beautiful sentiments are inside your pretty head,” he said softly. Somehow, the girl’s face became an even darker crimson as she looked away bashfully. Grinning, he stuck his hand in front of him. “I’m Wyatt,” he ventured. She returned the favor and Wyatt felt sparks running through him, starting at his hand, which was grasping hers.  
           “I’m Elena.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	2. Paper Dragons

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I've been working really hard to get this chapter out to you and here it is! As always, feedback and kudos are appreciated!

CHAPTER TWO- Paper Dragons

**Then:**

Elena didn’t remember how she got home. One minute, she was staring at Wyatt, her hand grasped firmly in his, and the next, she was inexplicably in her apartment, staring down at a carefully written name and seven digits. A bag of books was in her other hand, along with her yellow umbrella. That beautiful umbrella, she thought, smiling. She’d have to call Sam to thank her. Elena felt giddy, more excited than she had in a long time. There was a certain shimmer that surrounded Wyatt, an indescribable aura that made him alluring. The light caught onto something about him in a way that Elena had never seen before. It was all she could do to not text him at the very second she realized what she was holding. Better to wait a day, she thought, and seem more casual. Her first impression wasn’t exactly the one she had wanted to give, but she could hopefully make up for that in the future. So she waited.

                It turns out she didn’t have to wait long, because about two hours later, she was lying on the couch with one of her new books when her phone chimed. Marking her page carefully, Elena tried to push down the hopefulness that was building up in her stomach, a fluttering of what-ifs and prayers. The text was from an unknown number (the paper was lying on her kitchen table, deliberately unused) and the fluttering burst into ruffles of excitement.

                **Number Unknown, 7:34 pm:** _Hey, it’s Wyatt._

 **Number Unknown, 7:35 pm:** _I realize that most guys will make the girl text first, and I realize that this is probably desperate as hell, but I couldn’t wait any longer._

 **Number Unknown, 7:35 pm:** _I’d like to take you out. Dinner? Tomorrow?_

Elena could hardly suppress her grin. Hastily, she punched in a contact name and responded.

                **Elena Morris, 7:36 pm:** _It’s a date._

**Incoming call from: Wyatt :)**

“Hello?” Elena answered cautiously. It was not at all unusual for her to speak with people on the phone, but this was different. Scarier.

                “Elena? Hi!” he said. She could hear his grin, and that in turn made her smile. Before she could respond, he was already talking again. “I know that this seems super lame and weird, but planning a date over text is really hard. Please don’t judge my inability to wait a proper amount of time to ask you out, I’m just really excited.” He spoke with such fervor, not even stopping for breath. It was refreshing to Elena to talk to a boy who didn’t care how “aloof” or “cool” he seemed. With a chuckle, Elena sat down and tucked her legs under her.

                “Well, I think it’s pretty cool that you’re breaking the social norms of first dates.”

                “Thank you! You see, I like you, and I want to see you as soon as possible. Why wait? I’ll ruin any ‘cool factor’ that I had built up when we actually do go out.” He huffed a nervous laugh and before continuing again. “So I said dinner, right? I think a dinner date is a clichéd first date, but I know this really great Chinese place and I’ve gone by myself a few times, and the manager looks at me disapprovingly, so I think that if I took a pretty girl he wouldn’t.” Elena laughed. The obvious nerves, a large contrast from the smooth charm he had been putting off at the bookstore, made Wyatt all the more likeable. It was like peeling away a layer of that shimmer; getting one step closer to figuring out what made him so captivating.

                “I love Chinese food,” she said. “I work until 5, so if you gave me enough time to get home and freshen up, I could be ready by 6:30.”

                “That’s great!” Wyatt said brightly. “Text me your address and I’ll pick you up then.”

                “Will do,” Elena replied, feeling that giddy feeling flare up again. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so excited about a date. “See you, Wyatt.”

                “6:30,” Wyatt promised. “I can’t wait. Goodnight!”

                “Goodnight,” Elena said, not realizing just how long the hours and minutes until 6:30 would seem.

**Now:**

_Elena thinks the only good thing that came from meeting Wyatt was the Paper Dragon. It’s the best Chinese food she’s ever had, and it’s the perfect price for her budget. If only it were as perfect for my waistline, Elena thinks as she steps into the restaurant, relishing in the blast of heat that comes with stepping out of the cold. She’s pretty sure she knows what she wants already, which is good, because the young Chinese boy behind the counter recognizes her when she comes in and jumps off his chair._

_“Erena!” he shouts, running to the register. Before she’s even reached the counter, he’s punched in the order (General Tso’s, lo Mein, crab Rangoon, and an egg roll) and smiles up at her. “$17.60,” he says and holds out an expectant hand. Elena laughs and gives him her card, leaning up against the greasy countertop._

_“I think I must come here too often, Li,” she comments, drawing a smiley face in the metal counter. “You shouldn’t have my order memorized.”_

_“Aw, Erena, don’t stop coming!” he swipes her card quickly and shouts back to the kitchens in Chinese. “I rike you!” Elena smiles. Li’s 17; he moved to the US 2 years ago, right around when Elena started coming to the Paper Dragon. His accent was disappearing by the day, becoming a relic of the past, but Elena enjoys the wisps of cadence that remain. She stands and makes small talk with him for a while. The store is mostly empty; it’s late in the evening to be getting dinner. But work has been getting harder and Elena has been getting off later every day. By the time Li hands her the large paper bag of food, the bell above the door is ringing again. When Li looks over Elena’s shoulder, his eyes widen and he mutters something in Chinese. Curious, Elena looks over her shoulder before snapping her head back to look at Li with panicked eyes. Standing in the doorway, wiping his boots on the mat, is Wyatt. Dread bubbles in Elena’s stomach and her heart leaps into her throat. Li sees her panic and jumps into action. “Wyatt, good to see you!” he says in faux-politeness, walking to the other side of the store. Wyatt follows him with a smile, leaving the doorway open for Elena to escape._

_“Li, my man!” Wyatt says. “It’s so great to be back in town!” He walks over to Li and Elena makes a mad rush for the door, shouting a goodbye to her Chinese friend over her shoulder. She thinks she may hear Wyatt’s voice follow her out the door, but the howl of wind blocks anything he might or might not have said. She runs the entire four blocks back to her apartment and doesn’t stop until the door is locked behind her. She leans against it, heart pounding wildly. That had been a little too close for comfort. Elena’s mind swirled with questions. When had Wyatt moved back? Had she really seen him on the street a few days ago? Why was he back? After all this time, why come back?_

**Then:**

Wyatt had heard a hundred times from all of his friends that the golden rule of meeting a girl was to wait three days before calling her. But Wyatt left the bookstore and knew he couldn’t wait that long. He felt lucky to have waited as long as he did. The phone call was mildly embarrassing, though. When he had first approached her, he had tried to showcase every ounce of “cool” in his body. That had all went away when he started rambling and laughing nervously. But somehow, he hadn’t scared her away, and now Wyatt was standing outside her door, getting his courage together to knock. The day had passed so slowly, Wyatt could have sworn the clock was moving backward. The last few hours had seemed eternal as he showered, shaved, and went through half his closet to find an acceptable shirt to wear. He’d decided on a blue button down that Wyatt thought matched Elena’s striking eyes.

                Nerves tingled in his chest and stomach. He felt his hand raise to knock before bringing it down again. Raised it, lowered it. Wyatt heaved out a sigh and took a step back. His watch read 6:37 in glowing green letters. What if Elena thought he was standing her up? What if she didn’t want to go out when she figured out what a wimp he was? He cracked his knuckles and tried again. This time, he held his fist about an inch away from the door and waited for it to fall on its own accord. Inside the burgundy door, Wyatt heard a light chuckle and the door opened on its own. And there she was, looking somehow more beautiful than she had yesterday. She had on a pale pink cardigan paired with a white shirt, with light jeans and grey boots. Her hair was down around her shoulders, framing her face in wavy blond wisps. And _God_ , she was stunning. Wyatt remembered that he wasn’t allowed to drool and shook himself back into a sentient state.

                “Hi! Um, I’ve been here, um, trying to knock but-“ Jeez, this was basically his funeral. Luckily, she laughed.

                “I’ve been watching you.” She gestured to the peephole. He balked at the small peephole in the center of the door that he’d failed to notice before. The stammering started again, but Elena spoke before it became incoherent. “Don’t worry, okay? It was cute.” Wyatt could feel a flush reaching up to his ears and tried to smile. She stepped outside and closed the door behind her before facing him again. It was then that Wyatt noticed how small she was, standing up only to his nose. “So, Chinese food, right?”

                “Yes!” Wyatt exclaimed, probably a little too loudly. “I mean,” he tried again, quieter, “yes. There’s this great little place called the Paper Dragon and it’s only about 5 blocks away.”

                “Beautiful,” Elena said, and she began to walk down the hall. Wyatt had to take a few rushed steps to catch up, but once he did, he was pretty sure that he had his composure again.

                “So,” he tried, “How was your day?”

                “It was okay. My work has been pretty slow lately so it was a boring day.”

                “What do you do?”

                “I’m a receptionist for a law firm in Brooklyn,” she says, sighing. “Exciting, right?”

                “You’re a regular Pam Beesly!” Wyatt exclaims, and every fiber of his being hopes she gets the reference. It probably won’t change how she feels if she doesn’t, though. Probably. Luckily, she smiles.

                “Just waiting for my Jim,” she tells him as she opens to door to the apartment building and steps outside, holding it open behind her. Inside, Wyatt fist pumps. Any girl who likes The Office is an automatic win.

                The rest of the walk to the restaurant is small talk, a get-to-know-you game that feels much more personal than the ones Wyatt was forced to play in high school. They talk about Elena’s job for a little while longer, and Wyatt learns that there’s much more to being a receptionist than taking messages and falling in love with the goofy guy who sits near you. Wyatt tells her that he’s an artist, a photographer and a painter, and that he’s absolutely like all of the struggling artists in all the TV shows that take place in New York.

                “You know the type, right?” he asks. “Don’t leave the house for days, eat Ramen noodles for every meal, use plastic wrap in bowls to avoid having to run the dishwasher, showering in the dark, that kind of thing.” She chuckles.

                “A friend of mine from high school is living that life,” she tells him. They continue to walk and talk, and before Wyatt knows it, they’ve reached the Paper Dragon. It’s a red brick building with huge windows on the front, allowing whoever walks by to peer inside at the hanging yellow lanterns and plush leather booths. The place is decorated in a decidedly Chinese manner, with old-looking scrolls and paintings hanging on the walls among signs written in Chinese. When they enter, a small bell above the door chimes. A young boy behind the counter waves them over to where he is standing.

                “Herro!” he says cheerfully, full of an obvious accent. “Will you be sitting or leaving tonight?”

                “Sitting,” Wyatt said. The boy had been here the last time Wyatt had come, so he knew what his rough translations meant. His dingy nametag read _Li._ He hopped clumsily over the counter and gestured that the two should follow him to a booth. When they were both seated, Li took out a pad and looked at them expectantly, waiting for orders. Wyatt panicked slightly, unknowing of what he wanted to eat, but Elena jumped right in.

                “Could I please get an order of General Tso’s with lo Mein, and please add on to that a crab Rangoon and an eggroll? Just water for me, thanks.” She hadn’t even opened her menu when she handed it back to Li. Hastily, Wyatt decided on a random dish and slapped the menu closed, spewing it at Li, who was now looking at just him expectantly. When Li finished writing the orders, he sauntered away.

                “I must say, I’m impressed. I thought you told me you’d never come here before,” Wyatt said, leaning forward on the table.

                “Oh, I order a lot of takeout,” Elena replied. “Especially during weeks when there’s a trial. I’ll be working so late that when I get home, takeout’s the only thing available.” Wyatt nods and rests his head on his chin.

                “Interesting,” he says, and he means it. Wyatt never thought someone talking about her eating habits during busy workweeks would be interesting, but this girl has captivated him so completely. Elena was like a really good picture; you could never tell what was drawing you into it, but it was there. She was like the picture he had always wanted to take. Wyatt made a promise to himself to take pictures of her someday before letting the silence get awkward. “So, when you aren’t working, what do you do?”

 

**Now:**

_Now that Wyatt’s back in the city, he’s itching to have some Paper Dragon again. It’s been since he left town that he’s had the chance to go, and now that the rain has finally stopped, he seizes the moment. The wind is harsh today, riling up his hair and nipping at his exposed hands. Wyatt reminds himself once again that he needs a decent pair of gloves because his hands get so dry and cold this time of year. Focusing on the amazing orange chicken awaiting him, he shoves his hands into his pockets and keeps walking along._

_Wyatt had almost forgotten how beautiful the city is in the winter. During the summer months, it’s overrun with tourists and the garbage and bad vibes they bring with them. Now, when all the tourists stay home in the warmth, and all the city’s residents stay inside, there’s a glow to the city that Wyatt loves. The streets are emptier, the lights shine brighter, cars honk their horns less. Wyatt thinks it’s beautiful that everyone on the street is focused only on themselves and not on the big buildings around them. It makes for a kind of peace that doesn’t usually exist in the city. Wyatt will concede that the city goes berserk a few days before Christmas, but these beginning weeks of December, when winter or the stress of the holidays keep everyone off the streets, these are the weeks that remind Wyatt why he loves the city so much._

_Finally, he reaches the Paper Dragon and relishes in the rush of hot air that greets him alongside the familiar jingle of the bell above the door. He takes a moment to wipe his feet of the ever-present grime on them and shakes the remaining cold out of his hair. Trying to fix it after being in the wind would be a lost cause, so Wyatt settles for the curly mess he’s sure it is. Behind the counter is Li, an old face that Wyatt had almost forgotten about. He's talking with a girl holding a large bag of food. Something seems… wrong. A little off. Li’s face looks slightly panicked when he calls out to Wyatt._

_“Wyatt, good to see you!” He moves further along the counter to a different register. This strikes Wyatt as odd again, but he follows Li with a grin._

_“Li, my man! It’s so great to be back in town!” Out of the corner of his eye, Wyatt sees a flash of blonde hair and brown bag and hears the bell’s jingle as the door is thrown open. A goodbye is hastily yelled as Wyatt turns quickly and manages to catch a glimpse of the girl running out the door. The freckles shimmering even in the cloudy light are a dead giveaway. He takes a step toward the door and calls after her. “Elena!” But she’s long gone._

_Wyatt’s stunned. He had just seen Elena for the first time in a year and a half, and the first thing she did was run like hell. This is what he had been dreading, with his move back. Shaken, he makes his way to the counter and tries to grin at Li again. But Li can tell that he’s faking._

_“Bad news for you,” he says. “Erena doesn’t want to see you anymore.” Wyatt’s stomach sinks._

_“Bad news indeed.”_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	3. Snow

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! Apologies that this one is a little shorter, but I've had a crazy week and it took me forever to write! Do you know how hard it is to switch tenses in the middle of the chapter? I keep having to edit all the wrong verbs! Well anyway, enjoy, and comments are kudos are always appreciated!

CHAPTER THREE- Snow

**Now:**

_Wyatt may not like the rain, but he hates the snow. When he wakes up and sees the flurries coming down in the grey light of dawn, he groans and turns over in bed. The weather forecasts have been warning him for days, but Wyatt has been politely ignoring them, hoping for a different outcome. At least, he thinks, I’m not on deadline right now, and I can spend the day pretending that snow doesn’t exist. He lies in bed for a few more minutes, getting used to the warm blankets and thanking his lucky stars he decided to pay his heating bill this month._

_Rolling onto the cool wood floor, Wyatt pads into the kitchen and pours himself a glass of water. He passes the large stack of applications that are piled on the table and shoves down the anxious dread that comes with procrastination. It’s exhibition time, and that means having a paperwork party to apply to the dozens of photograph and painting exhibits that will go up around the city in a few months. Wyatt’s dreading sending in his portfolio this year; he hasn’t been really inspired by anything in quite a while. The photos lack meaning, lack expression, and the paintings are merely lines and shapes on a canvas. No sparks have traveled through Wyatt’s heart to his hands. His camera lies uselessly near the large stack of papers, untouched since his move. What used to be an extension of his hands, his mind, his soul, is now just an expensive piece of equipment Wyatt could barely use._

_Wyatt absentmindedly starts a pot of coffee and turns on the news before sitting down on the couch. The smiling reporters drone on about all of the bad things happening around the city (Wyatt thinks it’s strange that these well-dressed newscasters can discuss such disasters and tragedies and smile on like they’re talking about their favorite TV show), and Wyatt tunes them out, letting the words fade into calming background music as he stares out the window at the fat flakes of snow drifting down to the ground. It’s predicted to snow all day, so he starts a mental list of things he can do to ward off boredom without going outside. As he continues to sit, Wyatt’s mind drifts to thinking about the snow gently falling just outside. As the flakes cascade and pile on the concrete outside, Wyatt’s thoughts drift to Elena. Their run-in at the Paper Dragon has really thrown him for a loop; he wasn’t expecting that type of reaction. His mind wanders and eventually he’s thinking of the Elena he knew two years ago, who was enticing and beautiful and adventurous and amazing. Wyatt’s memories slowly zoom in and suddenly he’s back in the first snowfall of two years ago, the only time he ever enjoyed the snow._

**Then:**

“Oh my god!” Elena shouted. They were sitting on her couch, close enough to loosely intertwine hands, but far enough away for an outsider to recognize it as their third date. The television was playing a movie that Wyatt couldn’t remember the name of, as they had long since given up paying attention to it. For the last hour, they had just asked aimless questions about each other, learning new and useless information, telling stories, laughing at each other. After her exclamation, Wyatt sits up a little straighter to follow her finger, which was pointing out the window. There, through the dark sky, large flakes of snow drifted down, a powder storm, and rested with their brothers on every surface imaginable. It seemed as though it had been at it for a while; the ground was covered in a thick layer of snow. Wyatt wasn’t normally the biggest fan of snow, but seeing Elena jump up from the couch to press her face up against the cool glass window in excitement made him a little less upset about it. He stood and followed her, leaning his own forehead against the window beside her.

                “It’s snowing,” he said. Lightly. Elena smacked his arm and grinned. He returned the grin and grabbed her hand again, and together they stood watching the snow cascade gently to its resting place. The pair stayed at the window for a while, holding hands and staring at the storm of white outside, a sharp contrast against the dark of the night.

                Just as Wyatt’s forehead was going numb, Elena stepped back and started walking to the door. She dragged Wyatt along with her by the hand and said, “Come on, let’s go outside!” She pulled on her boots. Wyatt didn’t want to go out in the cold and get wet, but the prospect of doing it with Elena made it not such a big deal. He laced up his shoes and pulled his coat on before opening the door for Elena to step into the hallway. She beamed at him before taking off down the hall, calling, “Race you!” Wyatt shook his head, locked the door with the key Elena had left on the table by the door, and ran after her.

                “Head starts are for cheaters,” he yelled. But Wyatt had run track in high school and caught up to Elena just as she was reaching the lobby. He came behind her and grabbed her around the waist, lifting her in the air. Elena squealed delightedly and kicked her legs out, yelling for him to put her down, but Wyatt, laughing and shouting playfully back at her, carried her out the door into the snow. He twirled her around in the cold, feeling the flakes land on his head and shoulders. After a moment, he set her gently on the ground and she turned around to face him, still laughing. For a moment, all they did was stare at each other. Wyatt’s mind mirrored the snowstorm around them: a flurry of thoughts and ideas. He looked at Elena. There were snowflakes in her hair, the white crystals a stark difference from its blonde color. Her cheeks were a rosy red, the type of blush Wyatt had learned he could make appear with a simple comment. Her eyes were a shining blue, pools of light that Wyatt felt himself drowning in. Her smile had faded slightly, but she held his gaze with such concentration that Wyatt could have sworn that he knew what she was thinking. And before he knew it, he was tugging her in by their intertwined hands before gently cradling the back of her head with one hand and the small of her back with the other. Their lips met in a sigh of white air and Wyatt felt Elena melt into his arms, bringing her hands up to cup his face. For once, he wasn’t looking at her, or the snow. His eyes fluttered closed and Wyatt let his other senses take over. Elena’s lips were soft and plump, and they tasted like the key lime Chapstick she’d been applying all night. Her hands were cold, but they felt warm on his cheeks. She breathed in contented little sighs, and Wyatt drew her ever closer into him. Wyatt wasn’t one for the snow, but at that moment, he could have stayed there forever.

 

**Now:**

_Elena’s walking outside when the first flakes come down around her. She lets out an audible groan and starts to walk faster. She’s had a terrible day, and she had decided to walk home from work instead of taking the subway. She tries to burrow further into her coat as she walks along, intermittently catching a fat snowflake on her nose. It’s enough to make her smile slightly. Even if it’s a nuisance, she’s always loved the snow._

_When Elena finally reaches her building, the snow covers the ground in a generous layer and is falling harder than it had been before. The weather forecasts have been predicting quite a storm, and Elena considers calling in to work tomorrow. It’s not like anyone will miss her; in the age of supercomputers and direct phone lines, she’s finding that she’s not good for very much around the firm anymore. And the next time a sleazy lawyer breezes past her desk and drops off a coffee order, Elena swears she’ll scream._

_Inside, the heat has been running for a few hours and Elena is welcomed by the warmth of her apartment. She drops all of her things by the floor by the door and barely makes it to the couch before collapsing. For the next few hours at least, everything she needs is within arm’s reach: blankets, her book, and the TV remote. She wiggles out of her pantyhose and breathes a sigh of relief. Elena might not be good for anything around the office, but the sleazy lawyers who want coffee from her appreciate the pencil skirts she’s required to wear. Turning the television on, Elena tries to forget her disappointment about her career._

_As the TV spits out a mindless sitcom at her, Elena’s mind drifts. She thinks for a while about the holidays, and the ridiculous amount of shopping she still has to do. Her large family always says that they don’t expect presents from her, but she knows it’s a lie. Cuddling tighter in her blankets, she ponders what she’s going to buy for her sister and her mother and how she’s going to ship all the presents so that they arrive before Christmas. The holidays always bring an intense sense of stress to Elena, and on bad days she swears she can hear her heart beating. Her mind wanders the plane of Christmas for a while longer before her phone begins buzzing with a phone call. Elena picks up the phone and smiles. Sam, her best friend, is calling. It’s been a few months since the last time they’d talked, and with everything that’s happened, Elena’s almost forgotten about her. She’s about to pick up when she’s suddenly thrown into a memory of a similar phone call on a similar night._

**Then:**

“Seriously, Sam!” Elena laughed as she talked into her phone. She was lounging on her couch just a few hours after the miracle that happened in the snow, still watching it come down gently to join the rest. “He’s amazing. He’s charming and smart, but at the same time, he’s like a little puppy and he’s awkward and nervous and he has this adorable little stutter. And it totally depends on the day which one he’s going to be- it’s so cute!”

                Sam’s voice was skeptical. “He sounds great, but you’re one to talk people up more than necessary. For all I know, he’s actually a crazy, ugly weirdo and you’re too delusional to see the light.” Elena rolled her eyes.

                “He’s different. He’s better. Just wait,” she said, “and I promise you won’t be disappointed.”

                “Oh, Leena, you make empty promises,” Sam replied. “I’m already disappointed. I mean, it’s what, the third date? And he hasn’t even kissed you.” Elena shot up off the couch excitedly.

                “Sammy! I totally forgot!” she yelled. “I forgot to tell you!” She smacked her forehead. “Oh my god, I’m so stupid! How did I forget to tell you this?” Elena can hear Sam sitting up in her own apartment.

                “Tell me what?” she asks suspiciously.

                “Oh my god, the most amazing thing!” Elena forced herself to back down, but was on the edge of the couch with excitement. “So it started snowing tonight, right? Like, these big fat flakes and they started coming down when we were watching the movie, and I was like, ‘Oh my god! Snow!’ And we watched it from my window and then I was like ‘Let’s go outside!’ and I raced him outside and he caught up to me at the lobby of my building and he like grabbed me around the middle and picked me up and it was so _cute,_ man! And he carried me outside and spun me around and then when he set me down he kissed me!”

                “WHAT?” Sam was yelling in earnest now. “You can’t just blow over it like that! Give me details, woman!” Elena laughed and shifted again on the couch, too excited to merely sit still.

                “Okay, so he like carried me outside and spun me around in the snow and we were laughing and then there was like this really intense pause and we were just looking at each other and I swear, Sam, he was looking into my _soul_ basically with that stare that he does and I like couldn’t even move! And he looked _so_ cute in the snow, I’m not even kidding! There were these tiny snowflakes in his hair and his smile was just so big, and then he looked really serious for a second, like a little bit scary, and we were still holding hands and he just pulled me right in and kissed me!” On the other end of the line, Sam shrieked.

                “Okay, okay, you have to tell me more! Was it good?”

                “It was amazing! Oh my god, the best kiss I’ve ever had! His one hand was in my hair, and the other was on my back just holding me and his hands were so warm and soft and when he kissed me there was this teensy puff of white air from the cold and it was so adorable! Like in a movie! And then he did this thing…” As Elena spoke animatedly to her best friend, allowing for the occasional shriek or gasp, the snow continued to fall gently outside.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


	4. Friends

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! I'm really sorry about the brief hiatus there. I've been very busy and, to be honest, a little unmotivated, but fear not! I'm determined to keep plugging on!

CHAPTER FOUR- Friends

**Now:**

_Wyatt finally finds some time to hard-core Christmas shop. The snow has mostly melted into a disgusting slush on the curbside, and he feels good about the applications he filled out and mailed. Exhibition season is almost as stressful as the holidays, and Wyatt thinks it’s the working of Satan himself that they land around the same time. He’s grateful, however, for the small bubble of pride that appears whenever he manages to get something done. It’s a nice motivator to keep doing things._

_The mall is cram-jam packed with coat-laden shoppers of all varieties: mothers dragging along young children in one hand and a slew of bags in another, little old men and women carting a few bags in each hand, rowdy teenagers running and laughing, showing each other the novelty and gag purchases they’d made. Wyatt tries to keep his head up, avoiding looking at the patterned tiles on the floor. It’s a bad habit of his to not watch where he’s going, which can be dangerous for someone with such a fast and lengthy stride. He watches the people walk by, in and out of stores, each with their own lives and stories, and he wishes he had his camera. It’s the everyday life of everyday people in everyday scenes like this that he most wishes to capture in his camera, but somehow fails to. One would think that operating a camera would be easy, and it is, but Wyatt has been having difficulty getting his to operate the way he wants, to capture the lighting right, to blur and focus in the best places, to grab the right center point of a shot. The pictures are okay, but there’s no art, no life._

_Wyatt pushes into a department store, keen on finding a scarf or hat or something for his mother. He blindly meanders for a while, trying to find the section he needs without an overly friendly worker’s assistance. The aisles are not as crowded as the main hall outside, but it’s still hard to navigate them without knocking anything off the display tables strewn through them. Finally, Wyatt spots a rack of colorful hats and makes his way over to them. In the row over from him, Wyatt hears loud voices, giggling and shouting. The sound makes him imagine his high school days when he’d gone shopping with friends, shouting just like that. He can’t find anything on the display he first saw, so he rounds the corner to furrow deeper into the shelves of accessories. As he rounds the shelf, he almost collides with somebody and jumps back, grunting._

_“Wyatt!” A familiar voice finds its way to Wyatt’s ears before he recognizes the face, but he breaks into a smile when he sees who he almost ran into._

_“Jack!” It seems like it’s been an eternity since he’s seen Jack. And how different he looks now, too, since the last time; the trademark shoulder-length blond hair has been chopped to hang messily around his face, not falling much farther than his ears. His freckles have faded, a clear implication of the season. Wyatt thinks back to the last time they’d hung out, on the rooftop of his building that summer night, trading sorrows over a case of beers. “What are you doing here, man? It’s been forever!” jack pulls him in for a hug, slapping his back heartily._

_“Shopping till I drop, man!” Jack laughs a cackle Wyatt has almost forgotten. “It’s been so long since I last saw you! What was it…”_

_“Summer,” Wyatt replies with a sigh. “I guess I’ve been busy.” He knows it’s no excuse, but how is he supposed to justify all the calls he’s screened, the parties he’s missed, the quality time gone? Of course, Jack knows why, it’s because of-_

_“Jack?” A nearby voice brings Wyatt shooting back into the present. Before either can move, a girl rounds the corner, and Wyatt is filled with a flutter of nervous dread. “Jack, can you find the price on this? The sticker is-“ Elena looks up from the trinket in her hands and stops in her tracks. “Hidden,” she whispers, handing it to Jack without taking her eyes from Wyatt. She looks so different now, from the last time. As he tries to summon the ability to breathe as he studies her now and tries to find the girl he fell in love with. Her hair is much shorter now, coming to barely her shoulders in straight locks that frame her face. Her lips are glossed in makeup, matching the only just noticeable smears across her eyes and lashes. And even though time has passed, and he’s taken every stitch of Elena in his head and locked it away, her eyes are hauntingly familiar. The only thing that hasn’t changed is the blue of her eyes, oceans caught in a storm, flecked with gray foam. He tries to remember how to smile, how to do anything at all, but the only thing he’s capable of is drowning in those stormy eyes, calling him deeper, deeper still into her._

**Then:**

Finally, _finally,_ the sun had begun to peek out from behind the gray clouds of cold. Wyatt couldn’t think of anything better than spring, the flowers cropping up in window boxes and parks, the revealing of arms and shoulders after a season of jackets and sweaters, the patches of warm sunshine scattered around his apartment. The only thing that was more exciting than winter giving way to spring was the bright, blue-eyed smile that never seemed to leave his mind. It had been a little over a month, although it felt like barely a day had passed since the rainy afternoon in the bookstore. Every adventure was a whirlwind with Elena, every day a new experience, every moment a surprise.

                Wyatt was looking forward to today’s surprise. A few nights ago, he had been lying in bed, talking on the phone with Elena when she had changed the conversation quickly, as if the thought was so urgent she had to get it out right then and there. “Wyatt, I have this friend, right?’

                “You do?” he’d asked in reply, grinning.

                “Har-har-har,” She shot back, moving on before he could pester her any more. “I have this friend. He’s a musician, and you remind me of him. You know, the whole ‘starving artist’ vibe.”

                “I’m interested.”

                “I want you to meet him. We’re getting coffee on Tuesday and I was hoping you’d come with us?” Wyatt had sat up in bed, feeling a surge of pride. She wanted him to meet her friends, and that had to be a good sign.

                “I’m there,” he’d said. And there he was, waiting by himself at the coffee shop Elena had texted him directions to. If the friend was here, he didn’t know it, but Elena had yet to arrive. Sighing, Wyatt checked his phone for the hundredth time, hoping for any reassurance that he was in the right place. An unexpected voice startled him, phone almost clattering to the table.

                “Wyatt, my man!” The booming voice came from right next to the table. Wyatt looked up at to see a familiar, shoulder-length mess of blond hair, nearly hiding the wide grin beneath it. He stood and shook a familiar hand, smiling at his old friend.

                “Jackal!” he exclaimed. “It’s good to see you, bro!”

                “You too!” Jack’s hair shook around his shoulders with every jovial movement. “How have you been?”

                “Sit?” Wyatt gestured to the booth seat opposite his own, which Jack fell into contentedly. “I’ve actually been really great,” Wyatt said, and he couldn’t stop the smile from spreading across his face. “How about you? Any success in the showbiz world?”

                “Oh, you know Broadway. Auditions, callbacks, nothing. I’m thinking about thinking my talents to regional theatre,” Jack said with a sad smile. Wyatt understood a little of his pain, if only the rejection aspect. Shaking the unhappy off with a flop of his hair, Jack changed the subject. “How about those pictures? You capturing all the beauty this fine city has to offer?”

                “Oh, I’m trying,” Wyatt replied. And he really was, too. Many of his recent photoshoots involved Elena, who was indeed most of the beauty in this fine city. “I’ve got a few galleries interested, so we’ll see what happens.”

                “Bully for you!” Jack’s excitement was genuine and seemed to bubble out of him, leaking into Wyatt like a curl of pride. “So aside from being the best photographer ever, what are you up to these days, man? What’s got you waiting in a coffee shop booth all by your lonesome?”

                “Well, I’m waiting on my girlfriend.” The word was still new and exciting on his mouth, and Wyatt loved the way it tasted. “She’s introducing me to one of her friends.” Behind Jack, the bells hanging above the door jangle merrily, letting everyone know of a new arrival.

                “What a coinky-dink!” Jack’s features lit up. “I’m here to meet my pal’s boyfriend!”

                “Get out of here!”

                “I can’t lie, my friend! My buddy Elena from high school-“

                Wyatt nearly dropped his phone onto the table. “Wait, wait, wait. Your friend Elena?”

                Before Jack could answer, another familiar face approached their table. “Wyatt? Jack?” Elena’s eyes were screwed in confusion. “Have you already met?” Wyatt’s gaze shunted back and forth from Elena to Jack and back again. After a moment, he burst out laughing.

                “Babe! This is who you wanted me to meet?” he asked.

                “Yeah, my friend Jack from high school band. He’s looking for jobs on Broadway now, and I-“ Wyatt’s laughter grew when across the table, Jack joined him, hair shaking with every move of his head. Elena’s brow was still furrowed as she looked between the pair. “I’m confused.”

                Gasping for breath, Jack leaned backward and let out a sigh. “I’ve known Wyatt here since I got to the city! He was my first roommate, back when we were so poor we ate off of Frisbees.”

                Wyatt finally gained the breath to contribute. “Yeah! Right out of college, I put an ad in the paper for a roommate, and this goof showed up and blew every other contestant out of the water!” Elena finally seemed to understand and laughed a little herself.

                “What a small world, “ she said softly and collapsed into the booth, beside Wyatt. “Who wants coffee?”

**Now:**

_Elena feels like there’s a hole where her stomach should be. There’s acute pain around the edges of the hole_ _, and a sinking emptiness inside. She can only assume this is what complete and total dread feels like. Her head is spinning, hands shaking, knees rocking. Call an ambulance, she thinks, before I pass out right here and now.  But she can’t look away from those green orbs that hold inside them the same alarm. Even after all this time, those eyes of emerald, glittering gems against a pale canvas, are just as mesmerizing as the first day. All Elena had wanted to do today was shop with her friend, hopefully forget about the butterfly permanently residing in her stomach because of the fact that Wyatt was back. They were so close, one store away from the safety and privacy of her apartment. Every turn that she made, she expected to run into him. After the first hour, she’d finally calmed down, and Elena had even started to have fun. But of course, Destiny chuckles wickedly down on her no matter what she does._

_She’s sure that she’s slack jawed, looks like an idiot, but Elena can only focus on keeping her legs upright. She’s barely aware of anything other than the shaking anxiety rocking her body and those flecked eyes in front of her. Wyatt’s features haven’t changed a bit, and this is the first real good look that Elena’s had of him since the end. His hair is a little shaggier, more unkempt, and it hangs into his panicked eyes. His nose twitches, like it did whenever he got irritated at her near the end. The freckles are pale from the winter, and the tiny scar on his left cheek is blushed red. More than anything else, Elena recognizes his lips, cracked and dry, parted slightly, showing the tiniest bit of his front teeth. How she spent hours in the dead of night staring at those lips, that face, trying to memorize every pore.  It could have been minutes, hours since she froze, standing as still as the mannequins around her. She feels the tension running through her veins skyrocket when next to them, a throat is nervously cleared._

_“Guys?” Jack’s voice is nervous. He takes a step in between the pair and looks down at Elena, concern oozing out of his eyes. “Everything okay?” Elena scoffs. Of course it’s not okay. She’s imagined this moment over and over, in nightmares and daydreams, usually ending in a large glass of wine and a box of tissues. But she knows that she has to be brave, she has to pretend that her world was not just shaken to its core, every building and mainframe blasted down by Hurricane Wyatt. The vault where every memory, every smile, every glance had been stored is finally unlocked, and images whip around her mind, flapping in the stormy wind. Elena’s head is pounding, keeping in nervous time with her racing heart. She can only hope that all the anxiety is staying inside her and not on display for the boys in front of her to see.  She nods and takes a deep breath before sidestepping Jack to once again look Wyatt in the eyes._

_“What a small world.”_

_Wyatt blinks rapidly, cleaning the staring contest out of his eyes. Elena’s shaking. She’s not so sure she can do this anymore. “H-hey,” he said joltingly. “I’m really s- I didn’t mean- It was totally- I, um,” he stops, at a loss for words, for breath. Scratching the back of his head, he manages a quiet sentence. “I didn’t mean to intrude.” Elena tries to smile in what she hopes is a nonchalant manner._

_“I heard you were back in town,” she says, sidestepping the quasi-apology._

_Wyatt’s brow furrows, and Elena realizes her mistake. “Well, I saw you at the-“_

_“I know.” For the first time, Elena’s gaze shifts from his onto her shoes, the line between the checked tile of the store aisle and the maroon carpet of the accessory section, the wooden paneling at the base of the display case next to her. Wyatt shuffles from combat boot to combat boot, swallowing loudly. He sucks in a breath as if to say something, but holds it a beat too long before releasing it again. Elena’s almost forgotten about Jack next to them, watching with rapt attention. He clears his throat again._

_“Listen buddy,” he pats Wyatt gently on the shoulder, “we’re gonna skip on out of here. Catch you later?” Wyatt’s response must be nonverbal, for suddenly Jack’s arm is around Elena’s shoulders protectively, leading her away. The checked tiles blur as Elena’s eyes fill with tears, the checks of black becoming stripes against the white tiles, the door of a jail cell, trapping her in this moment._

**Then:**

The coffee shop’s other customers were, surely, quite annoyed with the trio in the corner booth. They had been laughing loudly, shouting over each other, and banging the table for emphasis for hours. Empty mugs that waitresses had yet to clear were strewn across the table’s marbled surface. Elena and Wyatt sat opposite Jack, legs tangled together, leaning into each other, a mess of who’s-body-is-whose. Across the table, Jack lounged across the seat, wedged into the corner of the seat and the wall. Wyatt was telling a story now, some adventure he had in high school, and Elena felt rosy looking up at him. She could tell he was getting to the punchline of his story, the way his voice was gradually growing louder and he was leaning into the table, cheeks reddening with every word. She took a moment to study his profile, to notice the tiny scar on his left cheek, the way his freckles were speckles of paint across the canvas of his face, spattered on at the same time carelessly and with every caution in the world. She’d stopped paying attention, and Wyatt noticed when Jack burst into laughter and she stayed silent, just looking up with him. Elena could feel the corners of her mouth tugging into a smile, and he looked down at her with a smile of his own.

                “What are you doing?” he asked softly. The waitress had come by the table again, carrying another round of drinks with her. Jack was making polite conversation, charming the woman with his hair-hidden grin.

                “Just looking at you,” she murmured. He grinned and placed a peck on her forehead.  By then, the waitress has sauntered off and Jack was watching them with mock interest, pretending to toss popcorn into his mouth.

                “Wow, guys. Wow,” he said, leaning forward in his booth cocoon. “Way to make it awkward.”

                Wyatt laughed. “You just made it awkward, you asshole.” Jack raised his eyebrows and joined Wyatt’s light laughter, but Elena took is as a sign and sat up slightly, hopefully breaking the third-wheel vibe Jack must have felt.

                “Okay, so tell me again, how do you guys know each other?” She asked, wrapping her hands around the warm coffee mug, relishing in the heat. Wyatt followed suit and sat up in the booth, taking a long sip before answering her.

                “When I moved into the city, I was super desperate for a roommate. So I interviewed people out of my hotel room, and this guy waltzed in and knocked everyone else out of the park.” Across the table, Jack grinned widely at Wyatt, reaching up for a high five.

                “Yeah I did!” He chuckled. “Remember when we moved into that tiny little two-bedroom on Seventy-Third?” Wyatt’s uproarious laughter almost cut him off again. “That place was a dump!”

                “Oh, it was awful! Do you remember that time that the sink broke, and the repairman totally failed at fixing it-“

                “And you got showered in sludge?” Both boys’ laughter became hysterical. Elena watched them silently, feeling that giddy sort of glee that one feels when witnessing a well-loved inside joke. Wyatt’s head was thrown back, eyes screwed shut and mouth wide open, gasping for breath through his cackles. Jack’s hair was no longer tucked neatly behind his ears, but hanging down in front of his face, shaking with every jovial titter. As the laughs began to die into labored breathing, Wyatt sighed contentedly and took another sip of his steaming mug.

                “What about you two?” he asked. “You guys met in high school, right?” Elena shifted up again, thinking back to the dog days of summer, trapped on her high school’s dingy football field for band camp.

                “We were the band geeks,” she said fondly. “And look where that got us! Me, I sold my clarinet the minute we finished competing, and this kid’s in Broadway bands!” Jack reddened in a blush that he hastily tried to hide behind his cup.

                “This kid’s yet to play in a Broadway show,” he reminded her. “The closest I’ve gotten is off-Broadway Avenue Q.”

                “And it was a wonderful show,” she told him. “I could hear your sax alllll the way in the nosebleed row.” She leaned across the table to punch his arm lightly, making the vibrant blush spread. He shifted and shook his hair away from his face.

                “Well what about you two?” he asked. “How did Destiny bring you together?” Elena looked over at Wyatt, who was already smiling back at her. She knew how cliché it was to tell the how-we-met story, but she loved doing it every time.

                “You’re not going to believe this,” she said, starting at a place she knew Jack would understand. “Remember when me and Sam got matching yellow umbrellas?”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading!


End file.
